Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Teacher
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“I have a favor to ask.”
The teacher paused at Ian’s words. He was a penniless nobody with nothing to his name. Even as a bastard son, Ian held a hostage status that made him seem more significant by comparison. So what could anyone possibly expect from a man like him?
“What kind...?”
“Meet with Father sometime next week. The topic doesn’t matter, but do it in the garden, not the office. And make it about thirty minutes.”
Plenty of time for Ian to sneak into the office unnoticed. Since he needed to use the seal, that included time to melt the wax.
The teacher wore a thoroughly baffled expression.
“You don’t need to understand. The details, I mean.”
“I-if I do that, you’ll keep quiet about Lord Molin?”
“Of course. Even the bit about trying to ransack the steward’s room.”
“No! It’s a real misunderstanding!”
The teacher jumped back, waving his hands frantically. In a situation where he’d already been caught red-handed, his reaction suggested some other motive.
“Then?”
“It wasn’t about stealing a treasure—”
The teacher’s mouth hung open. The confession seemed to rise to his throat, but he couldn’t quite spit it out. When Ian shot him an urging look, the man finally sighed and let it tumble forth.
“I needed a transit pass.”
“A transit pass?”
“The Bratz territory frontlines are off-limits to civilians. For me, it was the only way to see the Great Desert up close—absolutely essential. Especially the observations between Tower 3 and Tower 4, but the Count won’t permit it for safety reasons.”
But what if it was the steward’s transit pass?
Derga had stamped it himself, so there were no restrictions. After all, if something happened to the Count, the steward had to be able to act as proxy. The teacher had tried to steal it to complete his research.
“I see.”
Ian rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought. He’d seen plenty of people this obsessed with a single subject before. No matter how broken their lives became, their research drive rarely faltered.
“How far along is the research?”
“It’s been a long time since I arrived here. I’ve measured nearly all the climate changes in Bratz, and now I plan to head to the Blaster Sea to continue.”
His thesis topic was [The Climate Changes of the Great Desert and Their Correlation with the Blaster Sea]. Naturally, that meant more endless time out there.
An amusing idea suddenly struck Ian.
“I see. Then let me ask one thing.”
“What is it...?”
“Late spring, I’ll be leaving for the Great Desert, the Cheonryeo Tribe’s encampment. Can you calculate the climate then?”
Deserts weren’t relentlessly hot day and night year-round. Amid the extreme temperatures, the sandstorms were another nightmare.
The teacher mumbled in distress at Ian’s question.
“Precisely would be difficult. And it’d take some time.”
“That’s fine. As long as I know before I leave. There must be a desert map too.”
“We have one from ten years ago.”
“Prepare it separately for me. In that case, I’ll get you the transit pass.”
“Pardon? The transit pass?”
The seal was essential for a transit pass, so while stamping Lord Molin’s, he could just do one extra.
The teacher blinked at Ian’s confident demeanor. He’d heard the rumors, but it clearly wasn’t sinking in.
“What do you say? Teach me everything about the desert, and I’ll give you everything in return.”
“I-if you do that, I’d be grateful.”
Ian beamed and extended his hand.
“Excellent. Let’s make a deal.”
The teacher stared at the boy’s hand.
Was it safe to take it? No hidden agenda? Ian’s life was in Derga’s hands—cooperating rashly might turn exile into execution. As a scholar, he had no knack for these intrigues.
“I’m just trying to survive in my own way, and Teacher can live yours. You’ll cross the border the moment you use that pass anyway, right?”
“...You’re right.”
No reason to hesitate then. Even if trouble arose, he’d be traversing the Great Desert by then.
With resolute eyes, the teacher clasped Ian’s hand. Who knew a deal between a middle-aged man and a child could feel so solemn? Ian grinned and pointed to the desk.
“Then, Teacher. Shall we discuss the details while we study?”
* * *
The pretext for the teacher summoning Derga was set.
He was abruptly quitting as tutor. Not entirely a lie, since he’d leave Bratz the instant he got the transit pass.
Ian tucked the damp handkerchief neatly into his pocket and turned to Haena. Thick leather gloves were essential too.
“Haena. The item I asked for?”
“Right here.”
She whispered, though only Berik was present, her voice laced with extreme caution. Haena produced two wooden keys that fit perfectly in her palm—one for the office, one for the drawer safe.
“I told the carpenter uncle we’d pay next week. Honestly, even if we’re late, a bottle of liquor would smooth it over.”
After that day, Haena had snuck into the steward’s room again. She’d used mud to make a mold of the keys, then commissioned wooden copies from a non-conductor material. The surfaces were even coated with rubber sap.
“Good work.”
“Then I’ll head out.”
Creak.
After Haena left, Ian checked his watch. The appointed time with the teacher was nearly here. While Derga’s office was empty, he needed to swiftly stamp two seals.
“Ready?”
“Hah. Why am I stuck doing this crap?”
Clack clack!
Berik grumbled but stuck close behind Ian. His presence-concealing skills were decent. They slipped from the annex to the upper floor of the main building without encountering anyone—thanks in part to Haena’s intel on the servants’ schedules.
“There they are.”
Through the window, a familiar man’s head was visible. Derga leading, teacher beside him. Even the steward was perfectly in place. As the teacher fussed over something, Derga’s face soured instantly.
“Now you stay here and guard tight. No one comes up till I’m out.”
Ziiing—
Ian channeled mana into him. His golden eyes glowed, hair whipping in the surge. Berik grinned, feeling the blood race through him.
“You look thrilled if someone shows.”
“That obvious? Good eye.”
“It’s important, Berik. Mess up, and you can’t handle the fallout.”
“If it goes south, you’ll just disown me. Talk is cheap.”
Berik waved dismissively, annoyed. If things went awry and someone approached, his role was to cause a commotion and draw eyes. Stealing gold coins from Chel’s room downstairs seemed a natural cover.
“Be out soon.”
For that reason, Ian pumped limit-breaking mana into Berik’s body. To ensure quick escapes—or faster recovery even from whippings.
Clack clack!
Creak.
Ian unlocked the office with the prepared key and entered. He hadn’t been here much lately, but nothing had changed.
Thud!
He beelined for Derga’s desk without hesitation and opened the largest drawer, inspecting inside.
‘There.’
A groove in the crevice. A hole positioned perfectly to slide in a diamond. Ian carefully withdrew the prepared wooden key.
Ziiing—
Just in case, he gathered all his internal mana. Even rubber-coated wood could be risky with high voltage. If foreign energy touched his fingertips, he’d reflexively erect a barrier. Whether a bastard’s body could manage it was another question...
Click—
The key slid cleanly into the hole. Pushing further revealed another secret drawer.
“Ah.”
Inside lay the seal, a mana brooch, two gold bars, and worn letters. Ian knelt to examine them.
He set a wax holder over the candle flame. While the spoon heated, he decided to check the letters.
‘...Correspondence with the Cheonryeo Tribe?’
Damn it all—they were in Cheonryeo script, undecipherable. He knew scattered words, but too fragmentary.
‘Next... woman king... after?’
What the hell? He could handle other languages, but frontier barbarian tongues were beyond him. Instead, he resolved to investigate later and transcribed the words onto parchment.
Scribble scribble!
The spoon was hot; the wax lump melted into liquid. Ian poured it and stamped the seal.
Boom! Bang!
Once for the letter to the capital. Once for the teacher’s transit pass. With both done, he expertly cleaned the wax residue. Wiping with a damp cloth before it hardened was key.
Sizzle.
The heated iron spoon cooled rapidly, trailing faint smoke. Derga couldn’t sense the lingering heat upon return, so Ian blew on it to chill the metal.
“Done.”
Everything tidied smoothly. Items returned, seals verified. Time to leave...
Rattle—
A presence somewhere.
Ian’s body froze instinctively. From outside the door? No—that would be louder, flashier. Berik causing a ruckus. Which left one spot...
“Lord Count. Are you there?”
The aide’s office attached to the study. Ian minimized his presence and slipped behind the curtain. Why was that man here? He never stayed alone without Derga.
“Lord Count?”
Creak.
The inner small office door opened, revealing the disheveled aide. Thank goodness for the blackout curtain—chiffon would’ve given him away instantly.
“Strange. I swear I heard something...”
Puffy eyes like he’d just woken. Probably crashed here after overtime last night, of all times.
“...?”
Sensing something off, the aide eyed Ian’s hiding curtain. Then cautiously, he stepped closer.
Rustle.
The parchment in Ian’s hand was too thin—even breathing made noise. It ratcheted the aide’s tension, putting Ian in a bind.
“Who’s there?”
Ian glanced out the window, turning his head. Brilliant sky, sunlight pouring in. Oddly, everything felt still. His habit, his mindset.
Composure over tension. Action over worry.
Mistakes could be fixed; failures could not.
Ziiing—
“Gahhh!”
The instant the aide grabbed the curtain, Ian slammed mana into him. Condensed wind burst outward, energy whipping around.
The aide nosebled violently, collapsing backward. The flung curtain billowed, but he didn’t glimpse who stood behind.
Thud!
White-eyed and sprawled, he lay there. Ian straightened the curtain and quietly slipped from the office.
“Finished?”
Berik shot up from the stairs at the sight of Ian. Ian gave a curt nod and bolted down ahead. Through the window, the three men’s backs were still visible. A glance—the teacher looked up, locking eyes with Ian.
The boy’s calm expression signaled all had gone perfectly.